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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529991">make beautiful things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaQuadrant/pseuds/AquaQuadrant'>AquaQuadrant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional/Physical Abuse, Gen, Manipulation, Not Canon Compliant, Sickness, but desperation is a hell of a drug, but realisitcally idk if i'll get around to it, disturbing imagery, false prince au, false prince varian originally by lunarcrown on tumblr, i wrote the summary with a larger story in mind, in which varian accidentally befriends a deceptively colorful horror-terror, leading one to question their own sanity, may or may not be complete, minor injury, self-depreciating thoughts, set after queen for a day, sometimes your dark side manifests itself as a literal shadow demon, survivor's guilt, we shall see, who makes lovely promises but has mysterious intentions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:28:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaQuadrant/pseuds/AquaQuadrant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>i'll tear you apart<br/>make beautiful things<br/>from pieces of you<br/>make everything new</em>
</p><p>~*~</p><p>Struggling alone to free his father from the amber, Varian's luck seems to change for the better when he encounters a mysterious boy who promises to have all the answers and wields untold power. But as his new friend slowly grows more malicious and controlling, Varian finds himself pulled down an increasingly dark path that forces him to make a decision; how far is he willing to go to get what he wants?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>A/N:</strong> Hey readers! For some of you, this is not new content. The first chapter is from my Tangledtober oneshot series, Cross-stitching (chapter twenty-three). The second one is from my Tumblr, written as a birthday gift to my good friend and creator of this AU, Lunarcrown. I figured I ought to have a place to put my False Prince oneshots to make them easier to find, and just in case I ever get inspiration to write more in the future (no promises!). In any case, I hope you enjoy, comments are always appreciated!</p><p>Lyrics from Tear, Part I by Son Lux. - Aqua</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>Chill</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div>Varian sets the beaker down with trembling hands.<p>His shakiness is now impossible to ignore, and he fears he’ll drop something and cause an even bigger accident than the one that encased Dad in the amber. He wipes his forehead with the back of his glove and comes away with sweat. But at the same time, he’s shivering. His head aches, and dark spots dance across his vision every time he moves.</p><p>Varian can no longer deny it; he’s sick.</p><p>And that’s a very bad thing, because it’s not just a little cold or flu kind of sickness. That would be fine, he’s worked through those before. This, he knows, is something more serious.</p><p>Days ago, he’d hit a wall in his attempt to create a compound that can dissolve the amber. He’d gone searching the area for clues, something new he could learn about the black rocks and their nature that might help. Of course, there was nothing in the village, but he’d found a small path of black rocks leading into the forest.</p><p>With nothing to lose, he’d followed the path. After winding around the forest for so long he was beginning to think there was no point, he’d stumbled across a barrow of some kind. A hidden stone door in a thicket, that lead to a huge underground cavern full of old ruins and a strange chill in the air.</p><p>And, of course, a lot of black rocks. But something about these ones had seemed different. They were almost in a kind of formation- not any particular shape, but enough repeating forms that he could tell it wasn’t random.</p><p>But in his investigating, he’d accidentally gotten too close and cut himself on one of the rocks. Not a <em>deep</em> cut, more of a scratch, really, across his chest. He’d mourned the hole in his shirt more than the small injury, and hadn’t thought it was anything to worry about. After finding nothing else of interest, he’d returned home, more frustrated and at a loss than ever. The cut had been ignored.</p><p>Now, it seems it’s gotten infected. The skin around the cut is red and hot to the touch, and the slightest prod makes pain shoot through his muscles. And this is bad because Varian’s alone- he has been since everyone else abandoned Old Corona to be chewed up by black rocks- and he has no idea how to treat an infected wound, he doesn’t know <em>that</em> kind of science.</p><p>Varian braces his hands against the work bench, hanging his head down as he takes slow, deep breaths. There’s no one left in town to help him, and he’s hours away from any other settlement. Even if he made it to one, he might not be welcome because of those rumors about him attacking Rapunzel. He’s well and truly alone here, and he needs to figure out a plan.</p><p>Just… once he rests, for a moment.</p><p>Varian’s eyes flutter shut.</p><p>The world tips around him as he feels himself falling. He never hits the ground, instead falling endlessly through inky blackness until the sensation is all he knows. Just as its about to consume him, he surfaces. His head breaks through a layer of snow, spilling powder down his shoulders in a crumbling mess.</p><p>He blinks the frost from his lashes. All around him is snow. It stretches out before him in every direction, an endless white void. Flat, dull, colorless. Empty. And <em>cold-</em> it seeps through his threadbare clothes and crawls lazily through his veins, like icy snakes swimming in his blood.</p><p>Above him, the sky is black. It’s a void of another name, stretching beyond the horizon and swallowing the world in darkness. But it’s not empty, not in the slightest. A dazzling array of stars glitters above him, packed denser than he thought stars could be. They’re scattered in clusters of beautiful disorder, like a bunch of dandelion fluff got carried away by the wind and caught in the space above.</p><p>There are planets too, planets he never even dreamed of seeing beyond the tiny pinpricks viewable from a telescope. Planets of different colors and patterns, closer than should be possible. And threading through all these celestial bodies are swaths of color he can’t even begin to identify. Like the aurora borealis he’s read about, bright yellows and pinks and purples and blues and it makes him dizzy just to process it all.</p><p>It’s <em>breathtaking,</em> and he wonders for a moment if this is what space truly looks like, once freed from the veil of the earth’s atmosphere. Deep, lively, vibrant. Eternal. Standing alone in the snow, he feels immeasurably small in the face of the radiance above. </p><p>The sound of his own teeth chattering together brings him back to earth. He’s <em>freezing.</em> A sharp gasp rips itself from his lungs, and he sees his breath fog in the air. Panic sets his heart racing, and he clumsily scrambles to his feet, kicking up flurries of snow. If he doesn’t find shelter somewhere, he’ll die. He knows this with certainty.</p><p>But the snow is deceptively deep. It seems to cling to him, making each step heavier than the last. His shoes are soaked through and he can’t feel his feet. Bitter winds rip at his hair, and he’s reminded of another storm, not so long ago. Trudging alone for miles and miles, with only the thought of getting back to Dad keeping him from giving up and letting the white haze consume him. But this time, his determination alone isn’t enough.</p><p>Varian struggles to make ground, but it’s to no end. There’s nothing in sight, no escape from this cold. Panting for breath, he looks up at the brilliant sky with all its color and majesty. </p><p><em>“Help!”</em> Varian screams. <em>“Anyone!”</em></p><p>The words don’t even get a chance to echo around him before they’re swept away in the storm, and despair crashes over Varian. But just before he drops to the ground to let the snow consume him, he catches movement.</p><p>Against the backdrop of inky sky, two yellow eyes blink open. The pupils are bright pink, and they regard Varian with enough intensity to melt ice. It’s an evaluating look, like they’re staring right through Varian’s skin into his soul, and it sends a chill down his spine. They get closer, and the rest of the figure comes into form, almost materializing out of space itself. </p><p>It’s a boy- like Varian. Almost <em>exactly</em> like Varian, in fact, in terms of the shape of his dark blue hair and the point of his nose. But much of his face is lost to the color of his skin; a deep indigo, smooth as the surface of unbroken water. Lighter pink freckles dust his face in the same places Varian’s do, glittering like constellations, and they match the pink streak in his hair, where Varian’s is blue.</p><p>A shining golden crown sits on the boy’s head, adorned with tiny pink stars that almost could have been captured right out of the sky. Rich furs of pink and purple line the cloak he’s wearing, adding to the regal appearance. Still though, he wears gloves, and the sight is bizarrely comforting to Varian, for whatever reason.</p><p>The boy has yet to land, his feet still floating above the snow by a good distance, forcing Varian to crane his head up to see. The cloak billows around him, but in slow ripples, as if he were underwater instead of hovering in a blizzard. He tilts his head at Varian, and it’s only now that Varian realizes the boy has no mouth.</p><p><em><strong>Poor boy,</strong></em> the figure coos. Varian knows instantly it’s the boy’s voice, even though there’s no mouth to hold it. <em><strong>Alone again. It’s not fair, is it? You did nothing to deserve such a fate.</strong></em></p><p>Varian manages to find his voice. “Wha- what fate?” he calls hoarsely, straining to be heard above the wind. “What do you mean?”</p><p><em><strong>You’re dying.</strong></em> The boy’s yellow eyes curl up at the corners, like he’s smiling. <em><strong>Can’t you tell? That wound you sustained is a deceptive thing. It looks so harmless, doesn’t it? But looks can be deceiving, as you’ve since found out.</strong></em></p><p>Varian’s heart misses a beat. “What?! I’m <em>dying?”</em> His breathing speeds up, hands raking through his hair. “No, no, no, n- no I can’t, my dad- I’m the only one that can save him! I’m the only one who will! If I die, then he’s lost forever and I can’t- I <em>can’t</em> let that happen!”</p><p><em><strong>Why not?</strong></em> the boy asks simply.</p><p>Varian balks. <em>“I’m</em> the reason he got trapped in the first place! I have to fix it, I- I have to prove myself!” he insists desperately. “I have to, <em>please.”</em></p><p><em><strong>Hmm.</strong></em> The boy’s gaze seems considering. <em><strong>Perhaps there’s another way.</strong></em></p><p>Varian inhales sharply. By this point, the cold has traveled to his hands. “What is it?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Let me help you. I can lend you my strength, and save your dying body. Together, we’ll find the answers you seek. We can be friends.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The boy extends a hand, tilting forward in the air. </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I promise.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Ice is forming in Varian’s eyes. He blinks it away and takes the boy’s hand.</p><p>The boy’s yellow eyes slant into their half-moon smile again, and suddenly he’s pulling Varian into the air. The abrupt weightlessness makes Varian cry out in surprise, the white world below them getting smaller and smaller as they ascend. And then it’s gone, and there’s nothing around Varian but space and stars and color.</p><p>The wind’s gone, and it’s deadly quiet. But it’s still just as cold.</p><p>Too late Varian realizes, as the ice starts creeping up his body once more. It’s fast and crushing, swallowing him up, dulling his nerves into noncompliance as he tries to move. He can’t even scream as the frost crawls up his throat, freezing his face in horror.</p><p>The last thing he sees are those blazing yellow eyes, watching in triumph, before everything goes black.</p><p>Varian’s eyes snap open.</p><p>He gives a violent start, gasping for breath. It takes him a few moments to gather his bearings. There’s no snow, no space, no shadowy figure with glowing yellow eyes. He’s on the floor of his lab, everything exactly as he left it, dark and quiet and alone.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>No. Not alone.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The voice is less of a sound and more of a feeling, rattling through his bones. Varian cries out in surprise at the sensation, looking around wildly.</p><p>“Who’s there?” he demands.</p><p>Silence. And then.</p><p><em><strong>A friend,</strong></em> the voice replies. <em><strong>I promised, didn’t I?</strong></em></p><p>Varian’s breath catches as he realizes. That dream- if he can even call it that- the voice sounds like… but no, that’s impossible, isn’t it? It was just a dream, or some kind of hallucination. He’s not well, he’s seeing things, and hearing things-</p><p>Something seems to take hold of his heart and <em>squeeze.</em> He can’t even cry out, it’s so intense. When it finally lets up, he’s left struggling to regain his breath once again. Curiously, though, there’s no lingering pain anywhere in his body. He can’t even feel the sting of his wound…</p><p>That gives him pause. Something itches at the back of his mind, prompting him, <em><strong>look.</strong></em> Warily, he tugs down the collar of his shirt.</p><p>The wound is healed. There’s no sign of it but a faint pink scar- pink not in the way that irritated skin is, but a true bright pink, as if by a dye. Varian stares in mixed horror and fascination. It’s impossible. It’s unnatural. And yet…</p><p>Gingerly, he pulls a glove off and brushes his fingers over the scar. There’s no ache, but his skin is cold to the touch.</p><p>All the pain is gone. But the chill remains.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Now, let’s start again.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Reflect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Not much else to add! Again, I'm not sure if I'll add to this in the future, I don't currently have plans but that's always subject to change. So for now I'm leaving it as incomplete. - Aqua</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>Reflect</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div>Varian studies his reflection in one of his beakers.<p>There are dark circles under his eyes, and shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. His hair is unkempt, completing his messy look. Overall, it paints a picture of desperation, and he doesn’t like it. He turns away, back to his notes.</p><p>It’s hard to say how long he’s been at it, trying to create a compound that can break the amber. His strange new friend- the boy he met in his vision, who healed his infected wound- is helpful. He murmurs suggestions in the back of Varian’s mind, with a low voice that drips like honey. Whenever Varian hits a stalling point, his friend is quick with an idea, something new to try. It keeps him busy and working well into the night without pause.</p><p>It’s the next day before Varian’s growling stomach becomes impossible to ignore. He’s shaky and lightheaded, the hunger gnawing on his stomach like a rabid animal. While he’s neglected meals in the past to focus on a project, he can’t recall ever going this long before. </p><p>Maybe just a quick snack and then back to work…</p><p>His friend’s voice whispers inside Varian’s head, perfectly innocent.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Yes, eat. You might as well, since your father cannot when he’s trapped like this. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Guilt immediately sinks its hooked claws into Varian’s heart. Suddenly, the thought of eating isn’t so appealing anymore. It’s only with slight resignation that he turns back to his workbench, once again bending his head to look over his notes.</p><p>After that, Varian doesn’t notice his hunger.</p><p>Gauging any kind of progress is a tricky subject, when there’s only one outcome that matters to him. Some compounds make the amber bubble or hiss with steam, but none of them can break it. Deciding whether or not to continue experimenting with a given solute is difficult, because he doesn’t know if one result is closer to what he wants than another. And he can’t waste too much time on each one because there are too many chemicals in the world to try.</p><p>He has lists that span the length of his workbench, now, scrolls unfurling along the floor. It’s getting hard to read them, from the way his eyes blur with tiredness and his concentration wavers like the flame of a dying candle. He hasn’t slept properly in days, and while his sleep schedule wasn’t stellar before the accident, it’s certainly suffering now.</p><p>Maybe just a quick nap and then back to work…</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Yes, sleep. You might as well, since your father will still be trapped when you wake. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Once again, shame prickles at the back of Varian’s neck. It’s his fault and his fault alone that he’s in this situation at all- he shouldn’t be so selfish, feeling sorry for himself. And it’s not like he’s a stranger to hard work. He just needs to quit being so weak and do what needs to be done. So he splashes some cold water on his face and turns back to his scrolls.</p><p>After that, Varian doesn’t notice his exhaustion.</p><p>Despite having a clearer mind, there isn’t much progress. Experiment after experiment, the amber remains unyielding. Black rocks are slowly encroaching on the abandoned village, reminding Varian that sooner or later, he won’t be able to stay here.</p><p>Leaving means giving up. It means failure- never getting his dad back. It’s a jarring thought. Desperation and panic seize him so fiercely that in the end, they cancel each other out, leaving him standing frozen.</p><p>There must be something he’s missing. He’s tried <em>everything,</em> every alchemical solution he can think of. He’s attempted to analyze the amber using every method he knows, and still, it eludes him. And it’s so baffling, because he knows exactly what went into the compound that created the amber, but somehow, it’s changed.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>What troubles you, my friend?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian chews his lip. “I- I don’t think the solution is in my alchemy,” he admits finally. “My compound created the amber, but only <em>after</em> it interacted with the black rocks. And- and the black rocks, they’re uh, they’re connected to the sundrop.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’re right.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>A short pause; long enough for Varian to flush with pride at the simple words. At least he’s managed to work that much out.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>What do you propose?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The voice is curious, prompting. Varian knits his brows together in thought. “I… need to get the sundrop,” he decides, gaining more confidence with his idea. “The flower that the king used to heal his wife.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>No.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The response is immediate and firm. Varian startles at it, balking. “What? But, the sundrop-”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>- is no longer in the flower. You should know this.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian tries not to cringe at the disappointment in his friend’s tone. He thinks hard about what else could’ve happened to the power of the sundrop, and his answer comes more hesitantly this time. “Rapunzel?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Yes.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian relaxes, tension dripping off his shoulders like melting snow. “Right, cause the rocks reacted to her. So- so that means I can just go ask her to-”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>No.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>“What?” Varian frowns, confused. “Why not?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You think she’ll help you?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The condescension is impossible to miss. “She… she’s my friend,” Varian says uncertainly.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>No, she’s not. She refused to help you before.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian flinches. “That was different,” he protests, despite the knot forming in his stomach. “The storm- she couldn’t just <em>leave,</em> the whole kingdom was relying on her and-”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>The storm is over now. Where is she?</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian falters. “I…”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Do you honestly believe she cares about you? If she did, she would’ve come to help once the storm passed.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The words hit too close to home. They’re a disturbing echo of the thoughts that have plagued him since the storm, and he wonders just how much of his mind his friend has access to. His thoughts, his memories, his doubts and fears. It’s a chilling realization.</p><p>Swallowing hard, Varian persists. “Even so, that- that doesn’t mean she won’t help now,” he argues, but it comes out as more of a plea. “My dad’s life is at stake, she- surely she’d understand?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Her father has forbidden her from investigating the black rocks. She won’t risk crossing him just to help you. You don’t matter enough to her for that.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>It hurts, but it’s not an inaccurate assessment. Varian knows all too well the pressure that comes with not wanting to disappoint a father. His heart sinks. “What… what are you saying? If she won’t help me willingly, then…?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’ll have to make her.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Despite everything, Varian manages a laugh. “And how would I do that?” he asks incredulously. “She’s a princess, what could I <em>possibly</em> do to-”</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’ll have to take something… or someone… that she does care about.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>It takes a second for the suggestion to register. Varian’s eyes widen. “… no. No, no, no, that’s- that’s crazy, that’s <em>treason.</em> I can’t-”</p><p>A sudden pain grips his chest. He barely registers the sound of glass breaking when the workbench he falls against upends itself, scattering his equipment everywhere. His knees slam onto the hard, stone floor. He can’t breathe, he can’t move, something’s got ahold of him, his very <em>heart-</em></p><p>His scar is burning. It’s excruciating, so much that he has nothing to compare it to. For an undecipherable stretch of time, it’s like he simply ceases to exist, losing all awareness of anything beyond pain, pain, <em>pain.</em></p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You will.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The pressure draws back all at once, like receding tidal waves. Varian gasps as his breath returns to him, shaking and panting on the floor. Surprisingly, there’s no leftover ache in his chest- it’s completely vanished, leaving him with nothing but the memory of the intense agony he just endured.</p><p>Swallowing, Varian lifts his head. His gaze falls on the amber, Dad’s frozen face inside. The black rocks the amber sprouted from frame the entire thing like a picture. A horrible moment in time suspended forever, reminding him why he’s working nonstop in a dim and lonely lab. Reminding him why he deserves to suffer.</p><p>Varian carefully rolls into a sitting position, listening for any further reprimand from his friend. Movement catches the corner of his eye, and he starts- only to relax again as he realizes it’s simply his reflection, caught in the glassy surface of the black rocks.</p><p>Except… not.</p><p>Instead of his own reflection glinting off the dark stone, it’s his friend’s- the boy with inky blue skin and yellow eyes that glow like the moon. The colors are so vibrant; more than they ought to be considering the rocks are black. In a bizarre way, it’s almost comforting that such brilliance can exist in something as icy and dark as the black rocks, that Varian can see his own image- messy and worthless as he is- in such beauty.</p><p>And even more so, it’s comforting not to be alone. </p><p>His own reflection is poor company, anyway; he doesn’t mind parting with it.</p><p><em><strong>It’s alright,</strong></em> his friend soothes. <em><strong>I’ll help you. Trust in me, and you’ll free your father. You’ll have his pride and love. Everything you ever wanted. And the others… they’ll all regret turning their backs on you.</strong></em></p><p>Varian’s heart is pounding. It’s as if the words have plucked themselves right out of his soul. But can he trust it? Tentatively, he reaches a hand out to brush against the stone. In his prismatic mirror image, an indigo glove rises up to meet him. </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I promise.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Varian brushes gloved fingertips against the black rock, and a chill runs down the back of his neck. “Okay,” he murmurs breathlessly, agreeing before he has a chance to second-guess himself.</p><p>Yellow and pink eyes cut upward into a mouthless grin, reflecting a confidence he doesn’t feel.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Let’s get back to work, then.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~*~</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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